Page 79 of Razor

Ryder continues. “We spend the next few days going over the plan and making sure it goes without a hitch. Every eventuality will be considered, and as soon as Sunday is safe, Santiago will discover he has taken his last breath.”

The mood is ominous, the stench of retribution hanging heavy in the air. This is the moment the Reaper shows his scythe. When everything else has failed and the only option is death. Santiago overstepped the boundary, and his fate is sealed. Mess with a Reaper, whoever they are, and you don’t survive, period.

* * *

Waiting is torture,and even Blade can’t calm me down. I’m a walking human bomb, liable to explode at any moment. Anything could be happening to Sunday. That man is a psycho, and the intelligence Ryder and Snake have gathered proves my point.

His list of medications is a walking red flag. Stuff to control psychosis, shrink reports that don’t make for good reading. There are the stories of the fucked-up shit he does for fun, usually involving torture, death, kill; what a fucking great guy.

I can’t bear being here knowing Sunday is suffering; the only thing calming me is the fact she’s due to marry the creep. It’s the week after the gala. It will never happen because, as it turns out, it will be over his dead body.

On Friday night, we are packing. Ryder decided on a select team for this mission, preferring to use local resources where needed. The Wild Angels have graciously agreed to offer us hospitality and assist us in any way they can.

Luckily for me, Blade was selected, along with Ryder, Snake, Creed, and Tyson, who is currently in LA for one of Summer’s concerts and only happy to assist.

The plan is to take the jet and head to the Angel’s clubhouse where they will provide hospitality.

As I pack up my black suit, last used to liberate Delilah from her past, I only hope we can do the same for Sunday.

CHAPTER 40

SUNDAY

Iam living in a horror story. By day I’m locked in a small room with a tiny window. The weird woman brings me food and empties the bucket I use to relieve myself. It’s degrading, inhumane, and yet I’m grateful for the solitude.

The trouble with alone time, it conjures up images I wish could remain buried in the past. I can’t help myself and I miss Razor so hard it hurts. He is a constant in my dreams at night, along with the ones in my day because I simply cannot get that man out of my head.

I should never have left. I was a fool to think I could go it alone.

The time I hate the most is when the dull tread of footsteps makes its way toward my door and shivers like knives cut me inside as Santiago enters the room.

It’s been the same routine for several days now. He works during the day and then his evenings are spent torturing me.

The gentle click of the door closing causes my heart to thump, and as he approaches, I scoot up close to the top of the bed, my thin nightdress all that stands between his sick gaze on my skin.

I’m handcuffed to the bed at seven pm every evening after I’ve eaten and used the bucket. The housekeeper must have been a freaking wrestler in a previous life because I stand no chance of fighting her back, despite the fact I learned self-defense at The Rubicon. It turns out that in some cases, only a gun will do.

He grins when he sees me, licking his lips with anticipation, and the bile rises in my throat as I wonder what he has in mind tonight.

“My darling Josephine.”

He sits on the end of the bed, his gaze dragging the length of me, his hand sliding up my leg, pushing the thin cotton nightdress up around my waist.

“I can’t wait for our wedding night, my darling.”

His gaze lingers on my pussy, and I don’t miss the desire in his eyes.

“You will be a virgin bride.”

In his head, I am. For some reason he has talked himself into believing that, and I am not going to anger him any more than he already is.

“I will be a gentle lover, my darling. You won’t be afraid. I will worship your body and you will return the favor.”

His eyes flicker with desire, and he runs his tongue along his lower lip.

“So beautiful. One day you will thank me for bringing you here. When you realize how much you love me.”

“Please, Santiago, please let me go. You deserve better than me.”